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“Please,” Cara whispers, and I turn my gaze back to her face to find her lips parted and her pretty pink tongue poking out.
How can I resist such a gentle request?
The moment my fingers touch her tongue, she draws them into her mouth and sucks them clean with strong suction and a quiet, satisfying noise in her throat.
“Good girl.”
The heat for another round begins to rise until Cara shifts into my embrace and slides her own hand under my shirt.
Suddenly, the desire fades from her eyes as her soft fingertips skim up my torso and come to a stop when she locates the stitches from the bullet graze. I slip my fingers from her lips, resting my hand on her waist as she finds her words.
“Killian,” she begins, her voice cracking faintly from the abuse her throat suffered. I can’tstandbeing pitied and yet, in this moment, her comfort and her warmth is all I want to drown in.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” I whisper, hoping to reassure whatever thoughts have invaded her post-orgasm mind. I squeeze her hip gently, running my thumb in circles to help soothe her further and her eyes drop to my chest as her touch moves gently over the healing wound.
“Because you like it rough?” she teases gently, but there’s a sad note in her voice.
“Because I’m taken care of,” I correct, though I don’t mute the chuckle that rises either. “But sure, liking pain does give you an edge when it comes to dealing with injuries.”
Before her mind can wander too far, I catch her forearm and pull her touch away from the stitches. Grazing my nails lightly over her skin, I grasp at her palm and weave our fingers together. Such contact presses the warm metal of her new ring into my own digit, so I turn her hand to face us so we can both admire the jewels.
“Sometimes all that feels like a bad dream,” Cara murmurs, her gaze flicking to the ring. “Everyone says it’s really over now, that there’s no one left to hurt either of us but I don’t trust myself to believe it.”
Oh, Cara.
I understand her completely. Every time we pause to take a moment, something ugly crawls out of the woodwork.
“Then trust me,” I say softly, running my thumb over the ring. She tilts her head back to look at me, her dark eyes filled with an emotion I can’t read. Love and hopelessness can seem the same sometimes.
“Trust me,” I repeat, “trust that I’m doing everything in my power to give you the life you deserve, the lifewedeserve. Whether that is me fucking you until you can’t walk, or caring for you tenderly because of our baby in your stomach. Trust that I’ll keep you safe for the rest of my days.”
Tears flood her eyes, causing such a sparkle that my heart swells so much it threatens to burst right out of my chest. I want to keep her right here with me in this little bubble, safe from all kinds of harm in this life.
In reality, I can’t, but the desire pulses hot through my veins.
“I trust you,” she murmurs and her head lifts, our lips meeting in a kiss that’s every bit as tender as it is salty from the seed that lingers on her tongue. Such a perfect mix of our life together.
Cara settles into my hold, turning her hand this way and that to admire the ring and my lips find their home on her warm forehead.
My words will only hold power after I’ve had time to back them up and I have every intent on making sure pain doesn’t grace her life ever again.
“You know, now that we have a dining room, I can finally throw that dinner for our family,” Cara murmurs and her breath tickles my throat.
“A dinner?”
“Yeah. We have a dining room now, so I want to have dinner with everyone. As a thank you.”
“Alright,” I smile softly, nuzzling against her. “I’ll see what I can do to make that happen.”
37
KILLIAN
Her wish is my command. Cara desires a family dinner and a week later, that’s exactly what we’re throwing. The past week has been spent dressing up the house, filling up rooms with furniture, and having very brief discussions about decor. Arranging the dinner itself had been fairly simple, Italians won’t say no to free food and Owen is more than happy to bring some Irish merriment to the event.
I’ve been ordered by Cara to ensure everyone turns up on time and she’s insisted on taking care of the rest, not that I mind. I live here but I hold no interest in whether the drapes match the rugs or howsunnythe paint scheme makes me feel. I could be in a hovel with Cara by my side and it would be home. It’s her first big dinner with those we hold dear and making a good impression? I understand that completely.
“Here.”
